


Coping Mechanism

by vaudevillian_villainess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, D/s type dynamic, M/M, PWP, and i vomited this as a result, i was overwhelmed by steter feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1795201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaudevillian_villainess/pseuds/vaudevillian_villainess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles doesn't know how to handle what's just gone down.  So, for some inexplicable reason, he goes to Peter.  Naturally, Peter is happy to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping Mechanism

**Author's Note:**

> Steter feels had overwhelmed me...and I produced this. JE NE REGRETTE RIEN!!!  
>  **I AM MOLODOO/YOU-ARE-THE-SENTINELS! I JUST DELETED MY OLD ACCOUNT!**
> 
> [[my tumblr]](http://vaudevillian-villainess.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Beta-ed by the fabulous [marywimsical](http://marywimsical.tumblr.com/)!

He had no idea why he was here, now, at this point in time, at this particular place, to see this particular person. Legit, he had no clue. But nevertheless, he was in a nice loft downtown, riding the old-fashioned lift up to the top, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet when the lift screeched to a stop. He pulled the doors open and stepped out, standing at the door to the apartment, still having no idea why he was here. He went to knock when the door was unceremoniously pulled open by a rather smug-looking Peter Hale. Stiles tried and failed to give him a dirty glare. 

“Stiles, what a surprise. Why don’t you come inside?” Peter spoke. Stiles nodded his head and clutched his bag even closer to him as he shuffled past Peter into his apartment. He took a look around: it was a nice apartment, a lot like Derek’s loft, but with a bit more style and a homier feel to it. There were paintings on the walls and rugs near the couches. The entertainment system was rather kickass, too, if Stiles did say so himself. “So, Stiles, what brings you here on this fine day?” Peter inquired. His arms were crossed, resting against his chest as he cocked his head, smirk never leaving his face. Peter’s voice brought Stiles out of his reverie and his heartbeat immediately picked up.

“Y’know, that’s a really good question, Peter. I’m not actually sure what I’m doing here. I mean, I thought it would be a good idea, I’m not sure why I did now. I mean, why I thought that then. Why I would ever think that coming to visit you is a good idea. Or seek help from you. I mean, you’re crazy uncle Peter and you used Lydia to claw your way back from the depths of hell, like we’re in an episode of Supernatural!” Stiles exclaimed, pausing in his tirade to breath. He picked it right back up. “Actually, is half the stuff in Supernatural real? Like, did you meet Luci? Is he as cool as he is on the show? Is he as attractive? Because I gotta say, that man is fine and-” A hand clamped onto his shoulder and squeezed gently but firmly. He was about to speak again when Peter’s voice rang like a bell through the loft.

“On your knees.” The air became thicker as Stiles swallowed. He noted how Peter’s eyes tracked the movement. He opened his mouth to talk when the hand on his shoulder became an insistent pressure, forcing him down, as Peter repeated, “On. Your. Knees.” Stiles found himself staring up at Peter through his eyelashes, the man’s hand still resting on him. Peter returned Stiles’ stare full-force and brought his free hand up to Stiles’ cheek. He rested the pad of his thumb on the plump bottom lip of Stiles’ mouth. Dragging his thumb back and forth, Peter stared in awe at the boy in front of him before finally dipping his thumb into the warm cavern of Stiles’ mouth. When nothing happened, Peter’s grip tightened on his shoulder, but only just.   
“Suck,” he commanded. Stiles didn’t know why he was listening to Peter, but he was, so he wrapped his lips around the digit and began sucking and licking. Peter groaned and his head tipped back. The hand that had been on Stiles’ shoulder moved to cup the back of his neck. Soon, another finger joined Peter’s thumb and Stiles began working them with his tongue causing another delicious groan to escape from Peter. Stiles felt himself growing hard in his jeans. He started humping then, trying for some friction. He felt the hand at the back of his neck leave and only just registered the sound of pants being unzipped and a buckle undone.   
“Tell me, Stiles. Have you ever sucked a cock before?” Peter asked, his tone teasing as he pulled himself out of his pants ([He goes commando] Stiles thought abstractly). Stiles watched as the hand he wasn’t sucking on stroked up and down Peter’s shaft and he moaned, imagining feeling the heavy weight of Peter’s rather impressive dick in his mouth, the taste overwhelming his senses and suddenly, it was like he needed it to breath. He heard Peter chuckle when his hips canted upwards of their own accord. The digits he’d been laving at were removed from his mouth and he let out a whine. Peter released another chuckle as his free hand cupped the back of Stiles’ neck. The hand holding his cock guided it to Stiles’ lips and he rested the tip on his bottom lip. The pair of them watched as a bead of precome leaked onto the center of Stiles’ lip. It seemed that was all the encouragement Peter needed; he immediately thrust into the warm, wet mouth and moaned as he hit the back of Stiles’ throat. A moment later, something dawned on him and he pulled out, wanting an answer. Of course, that action caused Stiles to let out another whine. “You didn’t gag,” Peter stated. 

“Well, duh. I don’t have a gag refle-” Stiles was unable to finish his sentence, seeing as his mouth was now being occupied. Peter was thrusting rather fast but Stiles was able to keep up (Mostly. Give a guy a break! This was his first blowjob, so obviously, some drool [ok, a lot of drool] was escaping and cascading down his chin.) Peter’s hand gripped the hair at the nape of his neck and held his head still.

“You were made for this, weren’t you Stiles? Made to be fucked,” Peter cooed while Stiles slurped around him. Copious amounts of drool were flowing from Stiles’ mouth by this point, but the pair of them were beyond caring. “Doesn’t matter what hole either, does it? Your ass or your mouth, doesn’t matter. You’ve just been begging to be filled, but no one’s listened, except me,” panted Peter, his thrusts becoming sporadic and his hips stuttering. He didn’t even try to warn Stiles or pull back before he was coming in his mouth. After a few spurts, he pulled out and finished coming on Stiles’ face, which was an absolute mess, covered in tears, drool, and now Peter’s come. Harsh panting from both filled the room for several minutes as Peter slumped to the floor and Stiles crawled over to join him. They sat in amicable silence, backs against the wall. 

The silence was broken, however, a moment later, when Stiles muttered, “What the hell just happened?” Peter leered and brought a hand up to the mess on Stiles’ face. He dragged his finger through his come before presenting the finger to Stiles, who dutifully licked it clean. Peter hummed, his wolf preening. 

“I just fucked your mouth and you let me. You were quite obedient, actually,” Peter added, clearly reminiscing about the beauty of the moment. Stiles snorted.

“Yeah, don’t get used to it, buddy.” He replied. Peter’s leer focused on him and in a flash, Peter was kneeling over Stiles, caging him in. He leaned down close to Stiles’ ear and placed a gentle kiss on on the lobe before nipping it gently.

“Oh, I don’t know. Let’s see how you feel after I fuck you,” Peter suggested nonchalantly. Stiles groaned and belatedly realized that his own erection was still rubbing up against the fabric of his boxers. He felt Peter’s smirk grow as the man buried his face in his neck.

“Fine. But you’re carrying me to your bedroom and ravishing me on the bed.” Stiles demanded.

“Why am I carrying you?” Peter wondered, voice muffled since his face was still angled into Stiles’ neck.

“Because I still have a boner and therefore can’t walk properly. Plus, since I’m being deflowered, you’re going to humor me. Especially if you think you’re getting my submission.”


End file.
